Lord Ozil immediately backed away, and the group of bloodliner orcs was instantly alerted, responding like a well-oiled machine as they swiftly formed their defensive formation.
With Lord Ozil at the center, the five bloodliners immediately began to activate their bloodline. The air around them seemed to shift, and a low hum began to fill the space. Their eyes glowed with an intense red light as they focused their energy on the task at hand. The ground beneath their feet began to crack and splinter as the energy of their bloodlines surged through them.
The orc's muscles bulge and as they are members of the Bulworth clan or known as the red orcs, their skin began to turn red and tiny symbols began to emerge on their bodies like a tattoo.
The orcs' decision to immediately use their full power was influenced by their knowledge of the aftermath of the fight between Melfroy and Oriak. They know that Oriak was no ordinary orc - he was also a 3rd level bloodliner, just like them. Knowing this, the orcs were aware that they couldn't take any chances and needed to be fully prepared for any potential danger.
But the most wary of them all was Lord Ozil. He was fully aware of the capabilities of an elf who has reached the Enlightened stage, and though they were only one level apart, he knew the difference between them was vast. He was not foolish enough to underestimate an elf who could potentially control an unknown element.
With a quick reaction, he cast a powerful cursed shield to protect himself. The shield would not only cause 25% return damage to any attacker but any spell that made contact with it would also be mitigated by 5%. Lord Ozil knew that this shield would not last forever, but it would give him enough time to plan his next move and assess the elf's abilities.
As seconds pass on, they saw that the spatial tear began to get wider, and then a hand emerged. The hand gripped the edge of the tear tightly, and with a swift motion, the tear began to widen. The group watched in apprehension as the tear grew larger and larger, creating enough space for a normal human size to pass through. They couldn't believe what they were seeing - it was as if someone was tearing a hole in reality itself.
The air around them crackled with energy, and they could feel their soul wavering against something. Then an elf emerges with a one-handed wildling holding into the elf's arm like they are besties.
*Blurgh*
"Hahaha" Melfroy's laughter echoed through the foul-smelling air, as he made fun of Turpis's first experience with a spatial tear.
As Melfroy's laughter echoed in the area, the orcs couldn't help but feel a sense of dread as their very souls trembled under pressure from something. Like their soul was carrying one of the peaks of the Bulod Mountain Range.
One of the orcs' souls began to crack under immense pressure, and he could feel himself getting corrupted by the chaotic properties of mana. Suddenly, he heard a whisper that no one else could hear, and his body began to decompose at an alarming rate, with maggots emerging from his festering wounds.
As Lord Ozil noticed the signs of corruption in the orc's soul, he knew that Melfroy's mastery of soul magic was exceptionally high. Without hesitation, he barked out orders for everyone to stay away from the corrupted orc. The orc, now transformed by the chaotic properties of mana, began attacking those nearby with frenzied strength.
The other orcs, trained in battle, immediately formed a defensive circle, keeping a safe distance from the corrupted orc. Suddenly, one of the orcs lunged forward, using his axe to strike a fatal blow to the corrupted orc. It was a necessary action, but it still pained the orcs to have to kill one of their own. They knew that once the corruption sets in, there is no saving their brethren.
*********
Turpis heard a loud commotion coming from the other side of the room. He steadied himself, preparing for whatever might be approaching. As he looked over, his eyes widened at the sight of a group of red orcs.
Their skin was a deep crimson hue, a sign of their great powers. But what caught his attention the most was the figure leading them. Turpis couldn't shake off the feeling of dread that washed over him as he laid eyes on the seemingly ordinary orc holding a staff.
His instincts were screaming at him to keep his distance and get out of the room as soon as possible. The orc's presence seemed to radiate an ominous aura, and Turpis could feel a chill run down his spine as he observed the orc's four glowing earrings.
Despite his unease, Turpis forced himself to stay calm and observe the situation. He noticed that the group of red orcs seemed to be following the normal-looking orc's lead and were eyeing Melfroy warily.
"Hello, guys," Melfroy greeted them in orcish language with a casual tone as if he was meeting old friends. His relaxed demeanor was in stark contrast to the tension in the room, where the orcs were on high alert and Lord Ozil was eyeing him warily.
With a hint of disdain, Melfroy asked, "Don't you understand Orcish? I thought you were Orcs," raising one eyebrow in disbelief.
Lord Ozil stood calmly, his gaze fixed on Melfroy's three orbs. The orbs were floating around Melfroy in a slow and steady motion. He didn't show any signs of impatience or excitement but rather maintained a stoic and composed demeanor as he watched them revolve.
With a swift, fluid motion, Lord Ozil slams his staff to the ground, unleashing a chaotic torrent of countless dark, vine-like ropes that seem to writhe and twist of their own accord. The serpentine ropes slither and slide through the air, snaking towards Melfroy with alarming speed. The sudden attack is so swift that Turpis is unable to fully comprehend what is happening before his eyes.
But then he sees Melfroy's response. The arcanist dances lithely through the writhing vines, his lithe movements carrying him effortlessly through the air. With every step, he evades the grasping tendrils, his body moving in perfect harmony with the relentless barrage. Despite the overwhelming odds, Melfroy seems to be holding his own, weaving a graceful dance as he navigates the dangerous maze of ropes with ease.
"Ah, no talking? Okay then," Melfroy responded with a playful tone, a mischievous glint in his eye as he prepared his counterattack.
As Melfroy focused his mana, the three orbs around him began to tremble in unison. With a sudden burst of energy, a clear sword began to materialize in his hand. The sword glimmered in the light, its surface reflecting the surroundings like a mirror.
As the dark vines suddenly stopped attacking him and the four orcs began to surround him, Melfroy just chuckled and twirled his sword playfully. "Oh come on, boys, I was just starting to have fun," he said with a mischievous grin.
The orcs' eyes blazed with fury as they saw Melfroy's playful demeanor. But before they could even react, Melfroy disappeared and reappeared behind one of them, slicing the poor orc in half with a swift strike of his sword. "Oops, my bad," Melfroy said, still grinning.